


The Doe That Chases the Hound

by AbsinthexMind



Series: The Princess and the Hound [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Attraction, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Bonding, First Kiss, Gentle touches, Kissing, Longing, Sibling Bonding, Tenderness, kissing in a hallway, talk of arranged marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 08:55:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12837714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbsinthexMind/pseuds/AbsinthexMind
Summary: Normally in a hunt it was a hound’s duty to chase down deer. You went against the natural order of things. This time it was the doe who sought after the hound.





	The Doe That Chases the Hound

Tommen rushed behind you, clinging to your back shaking like a leaf. It was no wonder he was hiding behind you, he was terrified of the Hound. Smiling gently at the sight of the enormous man your hand goes behind you to smooth Tommen’s golden hair soothingly. The Hound was completely unfazed by the youngest Baratheon’s cowering form and continues on his way only to stop and give you a nod. 

“My lady.” His gruff voice rumbles as he addresses you. After the day he had saved you, the two of you shared simple words between one another but nothing more. It was like Sandor was somewhat afraid of getting close to you. It was like Sandor was somewhat afraid of getting close to you. You didn’t force any interactions knowing a man like Sandor needed to be eased in. From the way he always acted around you you guessed he wasn’t much used to a young maid like yourself willingly spending time with him. 

Either way you always had a smile for him. He had yet to use the offer you had proposed and you found yourself actually longing for his kiss, even his touch. “Sandor. Where is that darling brother of mine? Surely you wouldn’t leave his side.” Tommen fidgets behind you wanting to leave. You continue to pet his hair lovingly with hopes pacify him. 

“Lessons with the maester.” Sandor grunts, his eyes casually noticing Tommen behind you. He sees the fear in his green eyes. Bowing shortly he promptly leaves. You hear Tommen release a shuddering breath. 

“Sweet lion.” you murmur and brush your fingers against his cheek. “The Hound isn’t as scary as he seems. Just be lucky that he’s on our side.” 

“H-He never smiles though. . . . A-A-And his face. . .” 

As elegantly as you could you kneel in front of him. “Ssh my sweet lion. No more of that. Does a lion fear a hound?” Even though he was Baratheon, him and your other siblings looked more so Lannister unlike you. You may have had Lannister eyes and your mother’s beauty, but you had your father’s dark mane of hair. The lion of Lannister better suited your younger siblings. They were golden all the way just like the Lannister sigil amongst red. 

He shakes his head, mop of golden hair bouncing as he did so. You kiss the corner of his mouth and stand up, going back to holding his hand. “Let’s go. You have your lessons to attend to.”   
  
  
  


“You speak out of line.” 

You and Tommen pause outside of your father’s room. The both of you had been looking for your mother and was informed she had been heading toward the king’s chambers. His doors were closed with your Uncle Jaime standing guard. Normally when Jaime was outside you would hear moans and other obscene noises from the other side. Instead you heard your parents arguing yet again. You’re about to steer Tommen away until your mother speaks up. 

“I will not have my eldest daughter going to the north. Period. Whether it be Starks or Boltons, I will not have it. Nor will she be marrying that dirty old man from the Twins.” 

“Seven hells woman! Then who is she to marry?!” Robert Baratheon exclaims. It was clear that they had been talking about it for quite a while from the frustration biting in his voice. 

“You can do better.” Cersei hisses. “She deserves better. She’s your first born.” 

Your breath catches in your throat and you stare at the massive doors that blocked you from seeing the interaction. You catch your Uncle Jaime looking at you before he puts a finger to his lips; the same gesture he always did when you passed by your father’s room and heard something you weren’t supposed to. All you can manage to do is gawk and continue to not breathe. 

“The Tyrells of High Garden have two unmarried sons. Their wealth would be beneficial to us. There are also some Lannister cousins of Casterly Rock and Lannisport that would also prove a good fit for (y/n). Any good house in the west.” 

Huffing you hear a loud clinking noise, possibly caused by a flagon of wine bumping into the rim of your father’s goblet. “The Tyrells have one cripple son and the other is to be a knight. She will marry whoever I say. Maybe giving her to Oberyn Martell will get him off my ass about his sister.” 

Your father really didn’t care what became of you. Jaw ticking you walk away hurriedly with Tommen in front of you. You didn’t want to hear anymore. There was only one man you dared to fantasize about being with. The only other male besides your Uncle Tyrion and your sweet Tommen who even showed you the slightest bit of warmth. A man everyone feared, a man who could protect you from any harm. Yet he was sworn to protect your rotten brother. You would only ever be a silly little princess to him. You had come to terms with your infatuation with the Hound after you offered him a kiss. It grew worse every day when you saw his towering frame following close behind the smaller one of your bratty brother. Something about the hardness of his face made you shiver in a good way. You remember how close you were to him when he saved you from your rampaging horse. How he picked you up so easily. You wanted his arms around you again. You wanted him to claim you as his and demand your father to allow a marriage. But those were just dreams. Silly, childish, dreams. You knew how this world worked. There was no way you could fool yourself. Sandor Clegane was a rough man and wouldn’t be into such romantic notions nor would he ever ask your king father for your hand in marriage. Robert would marry you off to the highest bidder. He required money to squander on whores and alcohol. Your happiness meant nothing to him, you had always known that. At least your mother cared about you. She would fight for your happiness. Cersei was still a woman though. In the end your father had the final say on all matters. 

“(y/n), what were they talking about?” your brother asks innocently. You held onto his tiny hand, it was all you could do to prevent yourself from crying. 

Forcing a smile you explain to him that they were choosing your future husband. 

At that Tommen beams up at you. “You’re getting married?!” 

You laugh at his excitement. “Some day.” 

“You’ll be the most prettiest bride!” 

Utterly endearing you bend over slightly and kiss his golden crown. “Will you be the one to give me away, sweet lion?” 

Lush green eyes sparkle like the jewels your mother loved to wear. You wished a man could look at you with such adoration the same way your baby brother did. Instead you were met with lust filled gazes rather than adoration. Many wanted to fuck you but not love you. Men just wanted you for your body and title. 

“Hopefully my husband will be as sweet as you.” You sadly muse knowing that it was very unlikely. 

“And I want my wife to be just like you!” 

You prayed that at least Tommen and Myrcella were set up with people who would treat them right. They were pure and good hearted, they deserved to be happy. 

You saw him off to his lessons with his maester and planned to go see if your Uncle Tyrion was available. Just as you turn around though you come face to face with Ser Jaime Lannister. Apparent that he had followed you and Tommen you couldn’t think of why. He had always shown disdain for you despite you having done nothing to receive his irk. 

You chew on your bottom lip before taking another step closer. “Ser Jaime, what can I do for you?” 

Heavy gaze narrows toward you that has you clamming up under his scrutiny. Then he smiles. “I remember when Cersei was told she was to marry Robert Baratheon. The same age as you too. She had wanted to marry the Targaryen prince when she was younger but. . . well, we all know how that story ended.” 

He had never spoken this much to you, not in all the years you had been alive. It made you nervous. “And? What did my mother do?” 

“Not much she could do consider that Robert had just won the Iron Throne and declared king of all of Westeros. She would be his queen. Not really something to protest against.” 

“I don’t have any hope of my father finding me a match like that.” Mumbling you knew hesitantly dart your eyes over to your uncle. What was that expression on his face? Remorse? Pity? You couldn’t tell. 

Jaime shakes his head. “No. I don’t believe so.” 

Sighing you nod. “That’s the way things are I suppose. . .” 

“You’re a lot like your mother.” He suddenly says. “Both of you are stubborn, but strong as hell. Whatever happens, I believe you’ll get through it just as she has. You are her daughter.” 

His words make you smile. “Thank you. I believe this is the first time we’ve had a heart to heart.” 

The man known as the Kingslayer chuckled and playfully shook his head. “This is the first time we’ve really spoken.” Slowly he reaches out toward your dark hair and gingerly pats your head. “You’ll be fine. You’re every bit of your mother. Strong, stubborn, even scary as hell. But you’re also sweet with a kind heart. Any man would be lucky to have you as their wife. They’ll fall in love with you, I’m sure.” 

Your chest clenched. “What if they don’t? What if it’s like my mother and father?” 

Eyes hardening he holds onto your shoulders. “Then give him hell or your mother most likely will. You know how much she loves her children. And I’d be willing to break a few limbs if he proves to be ungallant.” 

Grinning you actually feel a little better. “Thanks Uncle Jaime. Or. . . Ser Jaime I suppose.” 

Gently smiling he chucks you underneath your chin and continues on his way, his cloak trailing behind him as he walks down the hall and out of view. Despite his kind and even comforting words though you couldn’t let go of the image of the man you really wanted. Jaime had claimed that any man would fall in love with you, could that possibly imply Sandor as well? Not that it mattered. It would just complicate things more if Sandor did happen to reciprocate your feelings. Which he most likely didn’t. 

Chewing on your bottom lip you curl your fingers into your gown. You were your mother’s daughter. You were strong and clever just like Cersei Lannister. You would do what needed to be done despite your feelings. You were a Baratheon, princess of Westeros.   
  
  
*   
  
  
  


It wasn’t exactly what he had thought of doing when he was younger, but Sandor Clegane hadn’t been given many opportunities to do anything else with his life except serve the Lannister family. It was what the Cleganes had always done ever since his grandfather’s hounds saved Lord Tywin’s own father from a lion. Following around Joffrey Baratheon had it’s perks though; one being the pay was exceptional and he had a roof over his head. He did his job well too, everyone was terrified of him because of his face and his skill with a sword. He supposed he should thank Gregor for that at least if nothing else. He’d thank him someday by plunging his sword into Gregor’s throat. 

Trailing behind the young prince like a looming shadow something caught his attention; or rather someone. Sandor peers over the stone balustrade into the courtyard that was lush with shrubbery and trees. It was a laugh that had drawn his attention. A musical laugh he had heard plenty times before, one that he held onto so that he could remember it before he slept. 

The eldest Baratheon twirled around with her younger, blonde haired sister. Many times (y/n) Baratheon was all smiles, full of politeness that was taught to her at a very young age. There was a maturity in her emerald eyes though that was beyond her years. She genuinely smiled at Sandor which would always catch the large man off guard. He remembered how she looked at him when she offered him a kiss. She had suggested it so easily. For a minute there he swore that his heart had stopped functioning. She couldn’t have been serious. Someone as beautiful as (y/n) Baratheon wouldn’t want to kiss someone as hideous as Sandor Clegane. (y/n) could have any man she wanted; she was a bloody princess after all! Why would she bother with an old, mean, dog, like Sandor? He had done nothing good in his life to warrant any affection from any woman let alone a princess. Yet there she had stood, bathed in the gentle candle light of the corridor, as she asked him if he would like a kiss as a reward. She had looked almost surreal in that torch glow, a fleeting image with eyes as bright as wildfire. A part of him had urged him forward, to take her face in his large, rough, hands and kiss her like no other man ever has. Kiss her and never let her go. But he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Couldn’t bring himself to taint her. Hands that were covered in blood did not deserve to touch something as pure as her, no matter how much he wanted to. Much to his shame he had day dreamed about fucking her, as he supposed many men did. Undressing her and letting his hands roam her soft body and try to memorize every detail. Kiss those lips that she had so readily offered up to him. It wouldn’t be all about his pleasure though. He wanted to feel her squeeze around him, whether it be his cock or finger and hear her moan for him and him alone. Sandor wanted to bring her pleasure that she had never known. 

That of course would never happen. King Robert would marry her off to some wealthy lord and Sandor would never see her again. So every time he managed to catch himself daydreaming he would stop immediately. Daydreaming would get him nowhere. A man like him didn’t daydream. Perhaps young maidens, but not a big, hard, man like Sandor. Daydreaming had stopped for him when his brother thrusted his head into the fire and permanently scarred him for life. 

“Stupid things women are.” Joffrey muses. “Even those you’re related to. My mother and Myrcella, even (y/n). She thinks she has the authority of a man. She’ll see her wrong doings once I claim the throne. But she might not be my problem by that time. She should be married off by now. Don’t know what’s taking father so long to get rid of her.” 

Like always he kept his mouth shut when Joffrey spoke about his sister like that despite it grating on his nerves. When he caused (y/n)’s horse to go out of control and nearly throw the young princess off, Sandor had half a mind to strangle him. He had always known that his charge was a cruel boy but to purposefully put one’s own sibling in danger was something else. Cruel and mean, just like Gregor. The king and queen did nothing to try and rid Joffrey of these detestable traits. They always turned a blind eye, the queen spoiling him even more. They would end up ruining him further. 

Sandor was just a sworn sword though. There was nothing he could do except follow Joffrey around. He hated that more than anything else. 

“Wouldn’t it be funny if I convinced father to marry her off to you?” Joffrey chuckled at the thought. “Imagine her face! No prince charming but a dog!” 

He stopped paying attention to what was coming out of his wormy mouth and remembered (y/n)’s alluring, striking eyes, that fluttered prettily. The more he recalled her face, the more he was certain that she had been serious about the kiss. 

_“Not even a kiss from a maiden fair?”_

Maybe he had been a fool not to accept it. Who knew if he would ever get the chance again. A moment after that he had thought himself gallant, chivalrous even. He had to remind himself that he was no knight. Just a dog. (y/n) had said a dog was better than a knight though. He couldn’t see how that was possible. 

Before continuing on their way Sandor looked over the balustrade one last time and by chance (y/n) had looked up at the same exact moment. Coal black meeting the brilliant flames of wildfire. She smiled up at him and waved. Not for the first time, Sandor felt like she had stolen the breath right out of him. He couldn’t bare to look at her any longer lest he get burned.   
  
  
  
*   
  
  
  


Their heads had grown heavy against your shoulders after a while, indicating that they had fallen asleep. Gently you close the book you had been reading and bask in the love you felt for you two younger siblings. Why had Joffrey not turned out like them? Sweet and gentle. Sweet and gentle they may be, yet Myrcella was beginning to show signs of being smart and resilient as well. She would make a man very happy, you were sure. 

You sighed and leaned against your bed frame. They didn’t offer you much room to move, keeping you trapped between them. Delicately you brush a stray strand of gold away from Myrcella’s face. What was she dreaming about? Maybe about the dragons you had been ready to them before they fell asleep. Tommen sometimes thought they were scary, but not Myrcella. She was fascinated with them just like you. Maybe you would bring her back a small skull from the cellar room that your uncle had shown you. A bit of Targaryen blood did run in the Baratheons after all. 

You hadn’t realized that your mother had been present in your room for a while now. She was smiling at the sight of the three of you. You knew nothing made her happier than seeing her children together. 

“Shall I get someone to bring them to their beds?” She whispers. 

“No. Let them sleep. They’ll wake soon.” 

Cersei quietly makes her way to the edge of your bed and carefully perches herself on the edge. No matter what she did, Cersei was the perfect lady and did everything elegantly. Even sitting seemed like an artform when Cersei did it. “When I look at you with them I start to imagine how wonderful a mother you’ll be.” 

Your throat closes and you suddenly find your siblings closeness to be suffocating. “A bit too soon to be thinking about my children.” 

“Not at all.” Her voice is sad, her eyes even more so. “(y/n)-” 

“I know.” You close your eyes and focus on your breathing. “I know mother. I. . . overheard you and father today. I didn’t mean to, but when I heard that you were talking about my betrothal. . . can you blame me?” 

“Of course not.” she sighs and reaches out to hold your hand. “I know this kind of thing isn’t easy. I myself struggled with being married off.” 

“You ended up marrying a king though.” 

Cersei laughs bitterly. “Yes and you see how our marriage is. You’re smart (y/n), you should know already that things don’t always turn out the way you want them to. No matter who you end up with though I want you to be strong. I know you’ll be strong.” 

“Uncle Jaime told me the same thing. And here I thought he never liked me.” 

“Why would you think that?” 

You shrug. “He’s always been very cold toward me before. I don’t know. Maybe because I don’t look like a Lannister.” 

Cersei squeezes your hand in a comforting manner. “My love, your uncle loves you as he does your brothers and sister. You are his blood. Blood means everything to us.” 

“Mother. . . did you love anyone before you were to be married to Rob- I mean, father?” 

Her eyes try to pry into your true meaning of your question. “Yes.” 

You squirm a bit between your siblings. “What did you do when you found out you couldn’t be with them?” 

She lets go of your hand and looks away. You had never asked your mother so much about her personal life. By the way she was acting you could only guess it was a sensitive topic. Maybe she still loved that person even now. “I did what I had to do for our family.” That was all she was going to tell you. 

You let the subject go. 

Something you wished you could do with your affections for the Hound. You tried be logical and list the reasons why you liked him so much. The list went on and on, even beyond the fact that he had saved you. You started thinking back before that had happened. Yes, there was always something there. Perhaps your budding womanhood and hormones played into it. He was the closest man to you that you weren’t related to. There were much younger guards and more attractive as well, but you felt nothing for them. They couldn’t compare to Sandor. Not to you at least. Even the most handsome knight couldn’t get your heart to flutter. They couldn’t arouse you the way Sandor did with just one look at you.   
  
  
  


“What are you doing all by yourself?” 

You tell your heart to shut up as it pounds frantically in response to Sandor’s voice. Briefly looking over your shoulder you find him standing a few feet away from you in the corridor. Turning your face back to the window you whisper “My father and mother have been discussing who I am to marry.” You don’t know why you’re telling him, he probably didn’t care one lick. “I mean I expected as much, it’s always been my fate, but hearing them barter over me like I’m some animal is a little disheartening.” You shrug. “Oh well.” You don’t know if he’s still there until you hear his feet thump against the ground as he advances. You scold yourself for spewing all that on him. “Sorry. Probably boring, huh?” 

“And who would you marry? Some handsome knight or lord. Is that what you’re worried about? Them sending you off to marry someone hideous?” 

Shocked to hear the slight annoyance in his voice you clam up slightly. You couldn’t admit to him that that was slightly what you were worried about. He probably already thought you were vain and spoiled like your mother. 

“Someone could be beautiful and still be cruel.” You murmur and turn to look up at him. Many thought your brother Joffrey to be handsome but not all handsome men are kind. He had proved to be mean and vicious. “That’s not my main concern. It’s the thought of being sent to a complete stranger. He could be fat for all I care. Just as long as he’s nice. . . I don’t want to be in a marriage like my mother’s. I. . .” 

Biting your lip you shake your head and start to walk away. 

“You what?” 

You turn with sullen eyes and a hint of redness to your cheeks that you didn’t want to admit. “I want love. I want to be loved. It’s ridiculous, I know, but I found myself wanting it. There’s a man here who I have found has total claim to my heart and I’ll never get to tell him nor will I ever get to kiss him despite me having offered my lips to him. I’ve come to terms with the fact that he doesn’t return my affections.” Carefully you steal a look of Sandor, not knowing if he had put two and two together. Your heart raced at the fact you had confessed about your feelings for him. 

Wanting to hold your ground as he stared at you you couldn’t help but fidget a bit. Why wasn’t he saying anything?   
  
*   
  
  
  


She couldn’t have meant him. But he couldn’t deny it any longer unless she went around offering kisses to other guards which Sandor didn’t think she did. She wasn’t that kind of lady. (y/n) _did_ have feelings for him. He was reeling at the sudden realization. His brain couldn’t even process it. 

Sandor noticed the slight fear that washed over her face as he didn’t say anything. What could he say? He’d never been in such a situation before. 

He turned on his heel and walked away.   
  
*   
  


You didn’t know what you had been expecting. He had probably grown tired of your complaining. No matter what you tried to tell yourself you couldn’t help the devastation that ripped you apart from the inside. It was hard to breathe as you turned away as well and took small steps, your hand clinging to your chest as you bite down on your lip and try not to cry. A foolish little girl you were. 

You heard Sandor growl loudly from the other side of the hall “Fuck it.” 

A strong hand twirled you around to face him and you could only stare wide eyed at him. Considering you were much smaller than him he had to lean down considerably to kiss you roughly. Exactly as you had imagined a kiss from him would be like you tilt your face ever so slowly to deepen it. Urgent and needing for all of you, something you had never felt from anyone. You had never felt so wanted by anyone. Sure you had seen the glances men gave you, but you never wanted them. You wanted Sandor though. And it so happened he wanted you too. Whether it was purely lust or he truly loved you, you didn’t care at the moment. You wanted more of him. Warmth licked at the walls of your belly as your hands roam up his chest and to his large shoulders. Once the two of you pulled away you were light headed and swimming with desire. Sandor looked at you with half lidded eyes. You had never seen such a gentle look on his face. Even when he had saved you his face had still been stern. 

“Why do you want an old dog like me?” He suddenly asks with a rasping voice. “I’m nothing pretty to look at and I’ve killed people.” 

Admitting, your hands gingerly move from his shoulders to cup his scruffy, burned, face. You gave him plenty of time to pull your hands away if he didn’t want to be touched. But he let you caress his face. “I’ve asked myself that question for quite a while.” You notice him shudder under your feather light touch. Had he ever experienced a gentle touch before? Surely his mother must’ve held and kissed him when he was younger. You realized you knew so little about him besides the fact that his brother had shoved his face into a fire at such a young age. Sandor’s gaze is unrelenting but you find it so comforting. “Even before you saved me from Blue Moon. I had always assumed it was a stupid little crush because you were the only kind man around me other than my Uncle Tyrion or Tommen.” 

That makes him scoff. “Kind?” 

You nod. “Yes, kind. All other men feign at being kind in hopes of me letting them under my skirt. My father doesn’t care for me and I know for certain Joffrey would rather have me dead. But you. . . You were different. True, you’re rough and a brute. Terrifying to everyone. That’s what your brother made you though. That’s what you have to do to survive in this world. I found myself admiring you too. Among other things. . .” Blushing you retrieve your hands from his face. 

“You’re a weird one.” Sandor grumbles, averting his dark gaze from you. You note the hint of shyness that made his movement more coy. 

Everything about him was endearing to you and the more you fell in love with him, the more you discovered about the towering man. He was insecure, self-conscious, and unknowingly craving a gentle human touch. Sandor was completely perplexed by your affections and you realized he might be even more so confused of his own feelings. The fact he had walked away at first revealed to you that he had been trying to restrain himself. Whatever he felt for you though was too much for him to maintain control over. You still feel pressure on your lips and you knew that you wanted more. Ever the greedy princess, you wanted all of Sandor Clegane. You didn’t know how to go about enticing him for more though. Getting him to kiss you had been like pulling teeth. You tried to think what any other woman would do. You tried thinking what your mother would do and the answer was simple: she would demand it. Could you be brazen enough to demand that Sandor join you in your bed? You were still so young and didn’t know much about that area of life. He would possibly think you still a child if you mucked things up. 

You didn’t want him to think you loose though. Instead you balanced on your tippy toes to kiss him again. Sandor growled as he wrapped an arm around your waist. The only sound was the echoing of your kisses and the soft gasp that you let out when he pressed you against the wall. His coarse beard was rough against your face, but you took pleasure from it and in all the rough affection he delivered to you. Arousal made your legs weak as his large hands deftly roam over your body and slightly hikes up your leg to wrap around his waist. Sandor was fully supporting your body now as you were completely lifted off of the ground. Nose brushing against your’s, his lips ghost over your swollen ones as you pant slightly. 

“You’re a troublesome girl.” He roughly tells you but the look in his eyes tells you something differently. 

Normally in a hunt it was a hound’s duty to chase down deer. You went against the natural order of things. This time it was the doe who sought after the hound.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this second part took so long. I got stuck around the beginning but I finally got inspiration to continue and finish it. No smut in this one either. Sorry about that too ^^' It just didn't fit in to the flow of it, or at least it didn't in my opinion. I might do several other stories involving Baratheon!Reader and Sandor but they don't have to necessarily fall in with this series.


End file.
